


A Better Place to Fall Asleep

by Domokoru



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Cock & Ball Torture, During Canon, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Public Hand Jobs, Requited Unrequited Love, Semi-Public Sex, Spoilers, Stealth sex, Untagged, cheesy lovey dovey shit idk, italic abuse, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25970392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domokoru/pseuds/Domokoru
Summary: Everything was going according to plan, but nothing prepared Jean Descole for his most significant obstacle yet...Emmy Altava.~~~~~~~Spoilers for the entire second trilogy of the series.
Relationships: Emmeline Altava/Desmond Sycamore, Emmeline Altava/Jean Descole, Emmy Altava & Leon Bronev, Emmy Altava/Desmond Sycamore, Emmy Altava/Jean Descole
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hi i started this in highschool and it's basically my headcanon for how demmy as a ship could work in canon but it's also porn with plot so lol

In Misthallery, Descole's curiosity was piqued by Layton's new assistant. He was already familiar with his brother and the Triton child, but who was this woman? She seemed to be capable of holding her ground, intelligent enough, and not too bad looking. If he had the chance, Descole would spy on Layton's interactions with the girl in the yellow dress. She didn't seem to be a relative or a lover, fortunately for him. He told himself it was just morbid curiosity. Though, when he saw that the girl had single-handedly defeated his henchmen, something ignited within him—a mixture of fear and intrigue. When she later took down his excavation machine, amongst anger and frustration, the feeling increased even more. Descole was shocked when the next night he woke up in a cold sweat. He had dreamed of her.

* * *

The next time Descole saw the girl was at the Ruins of Ambrosia. His plans had been going better this time, and he was thankful Layton hadn't brought his plucky assistant along to make a mess of everything. The scientist's hopes were soon dashed as the girl known as Emmy showed up at the last second. Descole watched through the security camera as she effortlessly kicked, threw, and knocked out all of his guards. He should have been irritated, annoyed, furious, _something!_ But no, instead he felt some sort of… carnal desire to be in their place. He wanted to experience her power firsthand, even if it meant being ravaged beyond repair. Descole watched with sick fascination as his henchmen were pummeled to the ground one by one, biting his lips to hold back grunts. It was too late to press the record button, but he had already fully committed this scene to memory. Even more significant was when Descole had to stand in the room housing the Detragan and watch as his guards were taken down by Emmy once again, right in front of his eyes. In the following weeks, he replayed the visions over and over in his mind at night, repeatedly making a mess of his expensive bed sheets.

* * *

A long while later, Descole encountered Layton and his entourage yet again in the young city of Monte d'Or. At this point, his invasive thoughts of the girl in yellow were throwing him off his game. He was getting sloppy and distracted, and his disguise failed as a result. It didn't help that he had to masquerade as a woman. Each one of Descole's disguises had to be perfect, down to the smallest detail, which included everything underneath as well. Interacting near the assistant while dressed as a woman down to the undergarments made it increasingly difficult to pull off a convincing performance. He ought to have been thinking about every Angela Ledore mannerism he had observed and practiced, but his head was full of thoughts of just what Emmy would think of him strolling around in women's clothing and underwear. Maybe she'd call him disgusting and punish him harshly for stealing a poor woman's clothes… _Oh,_ now _that_ would be lovely. For the moment, though, he'd have to focus on his mission, casting those thoughts aside until he could get back to the privacy of his own bedroom.

* * *

The next time Descole encountered Emmy Altava, he knew it would be his most difficult challenge yet. He had to shed his Jean Descole persona and become his former self, Professor Desmond Sycamore. He had to relearn his demure and polite demeanor, and fix the hair that'd been mussed under his hat for a long, long time. He stayed in the Froenborg cavern, waiting for the Layton team to arrive, and leaned his forehead against the frigid ice to sober his thoughts of the girl. All he could do was hope beyond hope that for some reason, she had been left behind.

The "ice" wall groaned open, rumbling against the ground as it raised upward. Layton had arrived. Descole continued to stare at the frozen mummy before turning to face the group. The brunette in yellow was there, behind the Triton boy. No matter, he had mentally prepared himself and kept his gaze locked on Layton. _It's showtime._ He faked a smile and walked down to greet him.

"Professor Layton! It's quite an honor."


	2. Indiscretions & Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out...!  
> Well, mostly.

Everything was finally going smoothly; everyone was prepared for the world expedition and nothing incriminating had occurred. Descole was even beginning to relapse into his past self, somehow even _embracing_ becoming Desmond again. However, there had been a couple of isolated incidents involving Emmy Altava worth mentioning.

* * *

One was in the Bostonius, after Layton and Luke had left to rescue the Azran girl. The turbulence was still increasingly bad thanks to Kodh's electromagnetic field, and it caused Emmy to stumble and fall into Desmond, gripping him tightly around the waist as he steered the airship.

"Haha, sorry about the closeness, Professor. I just don't want to go launching out the windows!" She was still shaking as she laughed and leaned into him for support.

"That's quite alright, Miss Altava." It took all of the Desmond's strength to continue steering and resist leaning back into her embrace, forcing himself to focus on piloting the ship.

* * *

Another time was during the preparation phase of the expedition. Emmy told Desmond he could call her by her first name instead of "Miss Altava". 

"Are you sure? That... Doesn't feel right."

"Ha! You professors are all alike! But really, don't worry about being so polite. We're going to be spending a lot of time together." Emmy chirped back.

Though he was happy to be considered on such close terms with her so quickly, Desmond sorely wished that it was the other way around. He wanted her to call him "Desmond" or even "Des" while he continued to call her "Miss Altava" to enforce the power structure he so desperately wanted the two of them to have. He wanted _so_ badly to be submissive to her, to be the one kissing her boots... Nevertheless, he tried to force his way out of the habit and call Emmy by her first name as she'd asked. He tried to convince himself that following her request was a form of submission in and of itself, before his conscious told him that he shouldn't be thinking about any of this in the first place.

"Hmm. All right, then... Emmy."

* * *

As the Bostonius was grounded and Layton took Luke and Aurora to explore the sights of Phong Gi, Desmond rested inside the ship on one of the lobby couches. He was reading a fascinating article about new therapeutic robots when he looked up to see Emmy holding a small platter.

"I brewed some tea. Would you like some, Professor?" She smiled and set the tray on the table as she sat next to him.

"I'd be delighted,” he responded, setting his magazine aside. They both picked up a cup and sipped their tea quietly as they sat beside each other. Emmy was the one to break the silence.

"This trip sure is amazing so far! There are so many different ways to live in this world, aren't there? I feel so lucky just to be able to go; I'm in the presence of two famous archaeologists, a boy that can talk to animals, and a million-year-old girl! It's a miracle that this lowly assistant was invited as well!" She laughed as she talked, but hearing that last sentence made Desmond's heart sink. Did Emmy really think that way about herself? _But she seems so confident on the outside..._ He was doing a good job of holding back his feelings up until that point, but that phrase broke the dam, and it all came flooding out.

"Emmy! You're quite far from 'lowly'! You're smart and strong and an all-around fantastic addition to this team, so..." The professor's speech slowed to a halt as he realized what he was saying. She laughed again. 

"Wow! I was just exaggerating, but that's very sweet of you. Thanks!" Emmy squeezed his hand before getting up to clean the dishes. Desmond watched her go as she walked down towards the kitchen. He sighed to himself, resting his face in his hands. What was he doing, what was he _thinking?_ The entire point of this venture was to get revenge on Targent, on his own father, not to make goo-goo eyes at his rival's younger assistant. He had to keep it together for a bit longer, just until his plan was finished. Then, he'd never have to see her again.

* * *

The Bostonius currently sat just outside the walls of Mosinnia. The crew had just finished helping the sleeping adults and looking around at the sights that the World Times had suggested they visit. It was getting a bit late, so they headed back to the ship, taking off their footwear and going downstairs. Desmond had to pick up some files from his office, so he stayed behind as the rest walked down to their sleeping quarters. He gathered his things and left the room, immediately bumping into Emmy outside the door.

"Emmy! My apologies. Why are you still up here?"

"I have something to ask you." She seemed uncharacteristically serious.

"Yes?" Desmond pressed.

"When I came back to Umid's house with the tea strainer… He said you, um, said some things," she gulped, "about me."

"H-Huh?" He stammered.

"He said you told him and his mom that I was... intelligent… capable… _remarkable._ Is that true?" Desmond blushed and looked at his feet, hiding his face in his documents. _Why did that brat have to tell_ her, _of all people!?_

"Yes," he muttered.

"So… that one time, when we had tea, you weren't just trying to cheer me up? You really meant all those things you said?" Emmy mumbled, her face equally red. After an uncomfortable silence, trying to think up an excuse, he confessed.

"...Yes… I like you very much, Emmy." Desmond couldn't bear to look up at her again. He didn't want to see her most definitely disgusted face, repulsed that an older man, barely an acquaintance, was saying such things about her.

"Professor Sycamore... hearing that... means a lot to me." Emmy hugged his waist and nuzzled her head into his chest. "You're always so kind to me." The scholar dropped his papers in shock. "Mmm... Your cologne smells so nice."

As he tried to scoot back out of her strong grip and stutter a response, she pulled his head down into a kiss. That was the tipping point for Desmond; he blushed furiously and turned beet red from his fingers to the tips of his ears before finally melting into the kiss. He shakily grabbed her back and held her close, desperately trying to lessen the space between them. Emmy pulled away to see him panting with half-lidded eyes.

"Hmm, Professor, you liked that a lot, didn't you?" The brunette purred. He licked his lips and nodded without making eye contact. "Me too..." She whispered before going in for a deeper, longer kiss. Desmond's toes curled in his socks as he shuddered from pleasure and surprise. Emmy broke apart from him again.

"Mmm... How long have you felt like this, Professor Sycamore?" She murmured.

"A-A long time." Desmond's mind was getting as foggy as his glasses, his normal filter wearing down.

"Is that so?" She smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Since we had tea together?" The girl nipped at the nape of his neck.

"Before that." The scholar answered shakily.

"Since we looked for the Professor and Luke in the woods together?" She licked a stripe up his Adam's apple to the bottom of his chin.

"B-Before that..." He panted. 

"Since you first saw me in the cave in Froenborg?" Emmy looked up at him through her long, dark eyelashes, expecting him to confirm her latest guess.

"B-Before..." Desmond repeated again. Emmy's eyebrows raised. She'd never met or seen this man before they met in Froenborg. 

"Then, when...?" The assistant asked, starting to sober from her daze. The man in front of her, on the other hand, was not so clear-headed.

"When I saw you... in Misthallery..." Emmy's demeanor changed suddenly, and Desmond's eyes snapped open as he realized what he just said.

"Misthallery? But we've never met before...." Emmy went from flirtatious to suspicious in seconds. She broke out of his grasp and yanked the Professor's tie and pulled him down to her eye level, dislodging his glasses in the process "Are you a stalker? How did you know I went to Misthallery? Just who _are_ you!?" Desmond could hear the fear in her voice underneath the guise of anger. He slowly hung his head, resigned to his fate.

"I-I am… Jean Descole." She grabbed his neck and slammed him into the wall, cornering him.

" _What!?_ Just what the bloody hell do you think you're doing!? What do you want from us!? _Answer me!_ " Emmy shook him, hitting his head against the wall again.

"I-I-I—"

"You what?!"

"Please… Let me explain..." He tried to pat her back to calm her down.

"Fine, but get your bloody hands off me, you creep!" She let go of his neck and he sank to the floor, sitting in a pitiful position, in an even more pitiful state. "I can't believe I kissed you." Emmy spat, wiping her mouth with her sleeve in disgust. 

It took a bit to get the words out, but Desmond Sycamore started to tell Emmy everything--his past, Layton's past, Targent, the chance of the Azran Legacy being a curse, _everything._ Emmy towered over him, hands on her hips, as he told his story. Her expression morphed from anger to pity as he spoke. As he finished, Desmond looked back up at her.

"I've… I have lied about many things. I have hidden myself away for years. But, I am deadly serious when I say you… _entranced_ me, from the first time I saw you." After a long pause to reflect on what he's said, Emmy held out a hand to help him off the floor. Desmond kept his head down, hopeless, knowing that he'd soon have to wake up from his blissful dream of being with her.

"I... I'm sorry, Professor Sycamore… I didn't know..." As crazy as it would've sounded to her just minutes before, Emmy felt bad for Descole and the pain he'd been through. Though she'd seen firsthand the kind of destruction he was capable of, she could understand where his ambition stemmed from. Comparatively, as Professor Sycamore, he'd been consistently kind to her. Usually she would've assumed it was part of a plot, but why would he tell her his life story if that were the case? It was at that moment she decided to trust him.

"You mean you don't... despise me?" Desmond perked up in surprise. He'd been...forgiven? She shook her head as she brushed her fingers against the newly-formed bruises on his neck. 

"I hope I didn't hurt you too badly."

_Ah yes, the bruises._ He had almost forgotten, but the woman's fingertips had reignited the memory of the delightful feeling of her hands around his neck.

"No, no, it's fine… I've certainly dealt with worse at the hands of Targent." Even though he was currently calm, Desmond couldn't utter the name of the group he hated so without spitting the word out. Emmy winced internally at his vitriol. 

The truth was, the girl had a secret alter ego as well. She'd been assigned by her "Uncle", Leon Bronev, to monitor Hershel Layton. After hearing Desmond's story, Emmy realized Uncle Leon must've not realized their names had changed and was keeping tabs on the wrong person. Though, after viewing Targent through the lens of an outsider with Professor Layton and Luke, she was slowly beginning to realize Uncle Leon had changed for the worse. Or more depressingly, had he been this way all along? Even with that knowledge, Emmy still didn't have the guts to defy him; she didn't have the courage to cut her hair against Uncle Leon's wishes, let alone back down from an assignment. It was that same cowardice that held her back from telling Desmond her truth after hearing his. _One day, but not now. It's not the right time._

"Maybe we should go to bed now, it is rather late." The professor's suggestion snapped Emmy out of her thoughts, nodding and gripping his hand as they walked together down to the bedrooms. When they made it to Desmond's room, he said goodnight and stepped inside. Little did he know, Emmy had followed him. She locked the door quietly behind them and, as his back was turned, tackled Desmond, pushing him onto his bed with a loud _pomf_. He spun onto his back to look up at her, extremely confused.

"E-Emmy!? What are y—" She silenced him with a deep, heated kiss. Her movements were graceful and gentle as she laid on top of him. Pulling back, the girl noticed he was still visibly flabbergasted.

"Think of it as an apology." Emmy moved back in to continue where she'd left off, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck as she formed hickeys on the front. Though it felt rather nice, Desmond was greedy and still wanted more. Any sense of decorum was already long gone for the night.

"Emmy, if we're going to do this, please… Make me hurt. Inflict pain upon me. I can take it." Desmond pleaded between gasps. The assistant sat up, blinked up at him, confused for a second, until her face twisted into a smirk. 

"That's pretty perverted, Professor. Didn't think an world-renowned scientist like you would be into that," she teased.

"I'm sorry… If it's too odd I—" His stammered apology was interrupted by a backhanded slap across the face from Emmy. The pressure flung his head to the side and blood began trickling from his nose. She looked startled at what she had done for a second, but then Desmond's lustful eyes met hers, conveying that this was exactly what he wanted.

"Ah… You know, Emmy… I've always had one fantasy, ever since I saw you in Misthallery. When you fought and defeated my henchmen I… always wanted you to catch me too, to punish me the same way." He covered his face in embarrassment at his drunken confession as Emmy giggled at his honesty.

"Okay then, I'll give you a demo! Stand up!" She got off of him and he obeyed her request, standing opposite her next to the bed. "Just try to be quiet, I don't want to wake up Professor Layton and the kids." Emmy whispered. She immediately followed up her statement by roundhouse-kicking Desmond in the chest, knocking him to the floor. He got up again with a grunt, only to be grabbed by the forearm and thrown to the ground again. That time, the impact had restarted the blood flow from his nose. He struggled to get up, but eventually stood opposite of her yet again. She ended her presentation with a swift kick to his currently rock-hard crotch. He collapsed onto the bed, groaning in immense pain and immense pleasure. The man had to bite his tongue _hard_ to stop from screaming during the last kick, and he started to taste the metallic tang of blood. Emmy quickly followed, jumping back on top of him.

"That enough foreplay for you, Professor?" Emmy laughed.

Desmond worked very hard to enunciate his words without regard for his swollen tongue.

"Yes. It was..." He swallowed a mix of his own saliva and blood. " _Excellent._ "

"Well then, you have to do something for me in return." She smirked and sat up straight on top of his chest. Though she didn't admit it, Emmy had recently had quite a few thoughts about the professor herself, one of which was feeling his deep, husky voice vibrate against her. Truthfully, she was a virgin, so she tried to put on a cool and collected front to mask her giddy nervousness. The woman adjusted her posture and began removing her leggings and, with them, her panties. She scooted forward until the man's head was covered by her skirt.

"E-Emmy! I d-don't think—" Desmond stuttered. He was in love her, _god was_ he in love with her, but she was moving so fast for someone that had accepted a love confession less than an hour ago.

"It's okay, just... do it like you're kissing me." Emmy put all of her weight on him, and he moaned at the feeling. It was all moving too fast for him; the confined space, the hot, steamy air, her soft, curly hairs tickling his face, and the control she held over him at this very moment, all combined, made him dizzy with excitement and from a lack of oxygen. Desmond proceeded to do as she commanded. He licked, sucked, and swirled his tongue around, making Emmy tremble above him, which made him hum in amusement. The humming of his laughter vibrated against her and sent chills up her spine. " _Nngh,_ Professor, don't stop! Hum your favorite song or something!"

He obliged, humming a little orchestral tune that he often played to help him think. She responded by hissing and grabbing his auburn hair to pull him into her more, her crotch further muffling his voice. The girl was soaking wet, but the professor did his best to clean her with his tongue. She tasted sweet, which was somewhat unsurprising with the amount of candy she ate on a daily basis. When Desmond finally started sucking on her clit, Emmy shuddered and clamped her legs around his face, forcefully grinding herself against him. It wasn't long before the brunette reached her climax, trying as hard as she could to be quiet, as to not wake up the other residents of the Bostonius. Without the release of moaning, all she could do was convulse on top of Desmond as she rode out her orgasm. Emmy slowly moved backward off of her host's face and looked down at him. He was still in the process of lazily licking off her juices and his drying blood from around his lips.

"Ah, I can do you too now—" Emmy reached back, feeling a wet spot on his pants instead of the erection she expected. He had come around the same time she did, even without any contact. "Oh." Looking from his crotch, to his neck, to his face, she said apologetically, "Sorry... Looks like I really made a mess of you tonight." Desmond looked up at her in quiet delight.

"Mmhm! Can we... Can we do it again sometime?" She leaned down to kiss a clean spot on his cheek.

"Yes, I'd like that." She moved to leave to her own bedroom when the man grabbed her hand.

"Wait, don't go… Let me clean up and you can stay here." Luckily, Desmond had a private bathroom, so he didn't have to walk into the hallway and risk being seen covered in an array of suspicious bodily fluids. He quickly washed off and came back wrapped in a towel, still trying to be modest despite the act they both performed. Emmy, on the other hand was sitting up on the bed nude, wriggling her legs to get under the covers. Desmond dropped his towel in awe and hurried onto the bed. He hugged her as close as he could while trying to be as gentle as possible, as if she were as fragile as porcelain, even though he was the one covered in bruises and aches. The man nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder, and smiled as he whispered.

"Emmy, you're so beautiful, I can't quite find the words to express it." Emmy pulled him into a crushing hug as she laughed in response.

"Professor, you're too nice to me, you know that?" That reminded Desmond of one last request.

"Ah, Emmy... You can call me by my first name. Please, I insist." 

"And here I was thinking you're a stickler for formality. Okay then, _Des._ " Emmy giggled as she tried it out for the first time, and Desmond beamed at the sound of her voice calling his name.

They broke apart to slip under the blankets, but after that Desmond immediately resumed nuzzling and hugging her. She laughed again. “I never would've thought Jean Descole would be such a cuddler." The man pouted angrily at Emmy for a second, then resumed cuddling in spite of her comment as she snickered. "I'm... glad this turned out well." 

Desmond lazily blinked his eyes back open before responding.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh! I, um... I've actually never done this before..." Emmy trailed off as her cool demeanor melted into a warm blush across her face.

"What, beat someone on request?"

"Th-that yes but... I've never been with anyone... like this..." She laughed nervously. "That was actually my first k-kiss too..." Desmond's eyes shot wide open.

"Really? You must be a natural then." Emmy bashfully buried her face further under the covers.

"It just... Felt like the right thing to do, and... I really felt like real love was emanating from you when you said all those things and... I realized I like you a lot too so..." As the words fell out, she started talking faster and faster due to nervousness. Desmond shuffled deeper under the blankets to face Emmy.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I really enjoyed it, and knowing you just put yourself out there makes me enjoy it even more. There's no rules or timeline for things like this, you know." He gave her a peck on the cheek and got back to nuzzling her. 

"I love you, Emmy."

"I love you too, Des."

It wasn't long before Desmond fell asleep in Emmy's embrace, feeling warm and content. Emmy watched him doze off as she remembered her own guilt at not telling him the truth. There just wasn't a chance to bring it up! Her eyelids began to droop.

_I'll tell you who I really am when the time is right... I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emmy just doesn't care for balls at all


	3. Gusty & Gutsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond and Emmy get that bread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> filler chapter? filler chapter.

Desmond woke up to the sun streaming through the thin curtains covering his window and the sound of running water. He grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand and looked to his side only to see an amorphous impression of where Emmy had slept. Oh, that's right. Emmy had slept here last night. In his bed. _With him._ As he tried to piece together the chain of events, Desmond's bathroom door opened to reveal the brunette, clad in towels after her morning shower.

"Good morning!" she chirped. Desmond sat up on the bed to return her greeting, wincing a bit; his sternum still hurt a bit from the previous night's activities.

"G-good morning..." Desmond swallowed as he scrambled to organize his thoughts. "So… Does last night mean that, um, we're in a relationship now? Or..." Emmy stepped forward to hold his face in her hands. She kissed him briefly and looked into his eyes.

"Of course, Desmond… If we weren't, I'd have to smack you again!" His eyes widened in realization and he reached up to pull her down into a hug. He had to blink away his tears as his auburn eyes started to water. "Huh? What is it? I was just kidding about hitting you--"

"No, I'm just..." He smiled. "I'm just very happy." She stepped back, breaking the embrace, and held both of his hands.

"Aww, me too!" She turned her gaze to the door. "Well, we're going to have to keep this under wraps, you know; I don't quite know what the Professor would think of us being together." The man sighed sadly.

"That's a shame... Now that we're 'together', as it were, I frankly don't want to be apart from you for a single second."

"I know, but..."

"Yes, I understand... If it's what we must do."

"Okay, I have to go to my room now so nothing looks out of the ordinary. See you in a bit, Des!" Wrapped in a blanket just in case, he walked with her to his bedroom door. He brushed some stray, damp hairs from her face and kissed her forehead before she left. Desmond slunk back to sit on the edge of the bed, thinking about everything that had transpired. While he thought it would be a challenge to hide his feelings, he realized it would be even more difficult to keep his hands to himself after learning that those feelings were reciprocated. Just kissing her on the forehead made him go weak at the knees.

* * *

Holding back their urges turned out to be a difficult task for both of them, especially Emmy, as she was the instigator most of the time. Emmy and Desmond tried to walk next to each other towards the back of the group, but they still had to keep apart so as to not draw suspicion. Every now and then, they could sneak in a hand-hold or a kiss, but it was risky. Sometimes it would get to be too much and they'd have to fall behind, saying that "Professor Sycamore accidentally forgot something" or "Emmy just _had_ to solve that last puzzle" as a cover.

This was the first of many of those times.

Layton had taken Luke and Aurora to see how Hoogland's bread-baking device in the windmill worked. Emmy tugged on Desmond's sleeve and forcibly led him outside. She dragged him around to the backside of a nearby shed and pressed him back against the wall.

"The smell of that bread was making me hungry, and I honestly can't wait anymore." Emmy held his wrists up against the wooden wall and kissed him, well, hungrily. She wormed her tongue into his mouth and bit his lips hard enough to draw blood. Every ounce of the blushing virgin from their first rendezvous has vanished from Emmy as she discovered her and Desmond's tastes and acclimated to them. The scholar still wasn't used to going from zero to one hundred so quickly, but it felt good, so he couldn't complain. He pulled apart for a second to get in a question.

"Miss Altava... What if somebody sees us?" Emmy chuckled darkly in response.

"What if indeed... Imagine your younger brother and those kids finding you like this, ravaging the poor young assistant. How embarrassing." She continued to kiss Desmond as he trembled at the thought. Somehow, she was always able to make the most terrible scenarios seem incredibly arousing. Emmy caught on to his thoughts immediately. "Mmm. you'd like that wouldn't you? Caught in such a state of disarray and humiliation..." He audibly gulped, knowing Emmy meant business when she started speaking in words with three or more syllables. He started to pant, feeling much too hot in his suit, even with Hoogland's notoriously strong gusts of wind blowing him in the face. At some point while the man was out of it, lost in his fears and fantasies, Emmy pulled him from the wall and grabbed him from behind, sandwiching herself between the shed and her newfound lover. She held him close with her left hand on his chest.

"E-Emmy wh-" She shut him up with a fierce bite to the back of his neck and raised her free hand to his lips.

"Suck." Three of the girl's fingers were shoved roughly into Desmond's mouth, wide open in shock. He had a hunch about what those fingers would be used for, so obliged by closing his lips around the digits and trying to slick them up the best he could. "Good boy," Emmy praised, "So obedient." After a few minutes, she pulled them back out and moved them down to his hips, deftly undoing the zipper and pulling out his cock.

"I-I don't think we should be d-doing this out here--" Emmy quickly moved her hand from his chest to his mouth, stifling his voice.

"Shush, or someone _will_ find us. Would you rather catch up with them now, looking like this?" No. He really, _really_ would not, and he sighed in resignation as she began stroking. "So, did you play with yourself like this when you were Descole, wishing I was there?" Though he tried to hide it, Desmond twitched visibly at the insinuation. "Mm, I felt that. I'll take that as a yes."

"Nngh..." The man tried to vocalize his objections, but with one hand over his mouth and another gripping his dick, all he could do was shut his eyes and rest against the girl behind him, pitifully thrusting back into her strokes. Emmy responded by dry-humping his ass as he leaned back onto her, trying to stimulate as many parts of him as possible. She straightened her back to reach up and bite his earlobe, whispering a command.

"Come for me, Des." He immediately obeyed, shuddering violently as he released onto her hand and the ground below. Desmond fell limply against her, his legs shaking too much to support his weight any longer. Emmy grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket and used it to clean her hands, then passed it back to him so he could clean himself.

"Well, I guess we can go back now!" Emmy exclaimed happily as she started walking back to the windmill, only to stop and look back at Desmond feebly kicking dirt over the mess on the ground. "What are you doing?" He didn't look up to respond.

"Being detail oriented runs in the family. If I don't hide it, Layton will find it." She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really think the Professor will see _that_ and know it was us? Come on." She gripped him by the arm and dragged him back to meet with the others.

* * *

Layton heard the two stumble into the windmill and turned quickly to question them.

"Ah, there you two are! Where have you been? You missed some fascinating information about bread-making!" Emmy didn't miss a beat in her response.

"There was a difficult puzzle one of the townsfolk posed to me, and Professor Sycamore here," she patted him on the back, "helped me solve it." Layton smiled in response.

"Well, that is rather kind of you, Professor Sycamore." Desmond nervously forced a smile.

"It was nothing really..."

As the group headed off, Emmy and Desmond sank towards the back again. She used this opportunity to yank him down by the ear as they walked and whisper,

"You owe me later for that." The man shivered, imagining what she meant by that. He responded quietly, biting his lips in anticipation.

"Yes, Ma’am."


End file.
